


and i believe what you say of me

by ohbutmydarling



Series: look up child [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Peter Parker, Depression, Experimental Style, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Suicidal Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 03:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohbutmydarling/pseuds/ohbutmydarling
Summary: "Do you need help?"Simple words; a simple inquiry. Peter must have uttered the same thing a thousand times to distressed citizens and yet, today, the question was new and foreign to him, a poison seeped from ear to brain, an intruder. An intruder, and he was the occupant of a cold home, frozen in fear while dusk gave way to the starlight settling at his feet.Intruders, too, were the droplets which fled bloodshot eyes. Anger for his own ridiculous bodily reactions settled in Peter's gut. This oblivion had no right to claim him. How could he explain its prescence? How could Tony understand?"No," Peter said. "No, I don't."





	and i believe what you say of me

"Do you need help?"

Simple words; a simple inquiry. Peter must have uttered the same thing a thousand times to distressed citizens and yet, today, the question was new and foreign to him, a poison seeped from ear to brain, an intruder. An intruder, and he was the occupant of a cold home, frozen in fear while dusk gave way to the starlight settling at his feet.

Intruders, too, were the droplets which fled bloodshot eyes. Anger for his own ridiculous bodily reactions settled in Peter's gut. This oblivion had no right to claim him. How could he explain its prescence? How could Tony understand?

"No," Peter said. "No, I don't."

"But, see, here's the thing." Tony stepped out of his suit, face a blank canvas, eyes the brush poised in anticipation. "I don't believe you."

And that, Peter had to admit, was fair. He didn't believe it, either.

"I'll be fine," Peter said, though he didn't really say as much as he breathed through clenched teeth. A breeze gust carried his words away and countered them with ghost whispers of _liar, liar, liar._ It deafened him. His ears rang.

"Again: not buying it."

"Well. Sorry."

Tony let one hand linger in the air above Peter's shoulder before he brought it down, once, twice, three times. A familiar gesture, which should have been a comfort. It wasn't.

"Come on, Pete. You wouldn't leave a voicemail like that if everything was fine and dandy in Spidey Land. What's going on in that head of yours, hm?"

Tony had always possessed a facade of calm so convincing, one felt deeply unsettled to discover it was false. Now, it cracked. Two corners of a grim, stick-straight mouth curled downward, and something deep and profoundly terrified danced in the centers of Tony's eyes. Peter did not feel unsettled. Peter felt nothing.

"I want to die," he said, even, steady. Factual. "I just - sometimes I really just want to die."

Peter expected many things.

He expected a _what?_ and a _why?_ and maybe even a _how?_ \- though the busy bridge they both stood on the precipice of now was, in his opinion, answer enough for how. The hard one was why. He didn't know the answer. There wasn't one. No answer; no reason.

Peter expected many things, and he did not get them.

What he got was a, "Shit. Pete. Buddy, come here. Come here."

What he got instead was a hug so tight it squeezed all the air from his lungs and another bout of tears from his eyes, but Peter didn't mind it. It was nice to feel the pain for once. To feel anything.

What he got instead was a sky ride to Avengers Tower, a warm blanket, a hot mug of tea, and a long conversation about mental health and therapy options and _for fuck's sake, kid, you can talk to me, why didn't you talk to me? Please talk to me._

Peter did. He did talk, and it hurt, but in a good way. It hurt in a way that reminded him he was alive, and that might not be such a bad thing.

"I do," he cried into a million dollar suit, strong arms encasing him and a chin rested atop his head. "I do need help. I need help. I need help."

Tony's breath shuddered. His facade of strength, of calm courage, did not just crack. It shattered at their feet. Peter thought there wasn't a sound in the universe more comforting.

"I know," Tony said. "I know."

"Please, please, help me. Help me."

"I will. I am. I'm gonna have to talk to May, and we'll get you some help, alright? You're okay. You're gonna be okay."

Peter wouldn't have believed it from anyone else. He couldn't even believe it from himself. Now, though, as Tony's voice cracked around the promise, Peter had no choice but to believe it.

_You're gonna be okay._

Maybe he would.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is taken from 'you say' by lauren daigle, which is a beautiful song that deserves the world.
> 
> as someone who has medically diagnosed depression, what i was really, really trying hard to capture in this fic is the muddled-head feeling you get with it - the brain fog, where the entire world confuses you and nothing makes sense. peter is stuck in his head here; he doesn't feel like his feet are on solid ground. i hope that came across as intended. character study type stories, where the focus is on the character's inner world rather than the exterior world, is something i'm not all that familiar with but would like to explore more, so this was very much an experimental piece.
> 
> if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and let me know! i'd like to write an entire series of oneshots exploring the many different aspects of clinical depression, as well as grow more comfortable with this stylistic type of prose...aka, i'm going to take all my baggage out on poor, sweet peter. for science.


End file.
